A Loud Existence
by incense and peppermints
Summary: "Maybe I'm just a skeptic, but no one I know is above cheap thrill; some just hide it better, and others, like me, don't even bother. We know what we are." Very dark Angela Oneshot.


Disclaimer: S.E. Hinton owns.

Warning: Dark themes, sexual content, language. Basically, if you're looking for happy, click away, click away!

* * *

I stare in the cracked mirror; my reflection glares back and eats through me.

When I stare, that reflection is all I see. Not the mold in the corners, not the cracks in the wall, not the dirt on the floor, or the cobwebs on the ceiling. Nothing in our dilapidated bathroom. No, just me. Just little old me in all my teenage glory.

My eyes lock on the image, like I'm a spider or rodent, and I examine every exposed contour from my forehead birthmark all the way down to the the jiggly belly fat. If I press my hands to my midsection and squeeze, I can't grasp much, but it looks gross and feels gross. When I move, it moves with me.

As I pivot and twist to get a good look at everything, my eyes catch every flaw: my almost stomach bulge, my crooked teeth, my elephant ears … One of my breasts is perkier and bigger than the other; every-_goddamned_-thing is magnified, and I feel more exposed than I ever have with a boy. Here alone, I feel more exposed than I ever have. I hate it. I hate this bullshit.

The boys all gawk and grope, like they've never seen a real pair of breasts, they're too busy kissing me to notice my teeth and ears, they grab my ass and they could give too shits about my stomach bulge.

With them, I am a big shot.

Maybe even a queen.

Not an average woman. Not an average girl.

I rock their universe. I rule their world. For a split second, I _am _their existence.

I let them bow down and sing their praises to my body. All I have to do is let them touch me, a small price, really; the satisfaction it brings me is far greater than it ever could be for them.

And I prefer them strangers. When you know people, it gets sloppy. Like Bryon and me, we're _sloppy_.

When you know somebody, you want more, you expect more. Except things like love, whatever that really is. He says he loves me, but I think he lies. I say I love him too, but I know I lie.

Unrealistic expectations is what it becomes. Ask my mother if she's ever loved a man she marries. On the surface, she'll tell you yes, and maybe she'd slap me across the face for asking, but I bet deep down it's resounding no. I bet deep down she knows the same thing I do, and that's that we're all just a bunch of hungry animals, seeking flesh. There is no love, and if there is, it's unrequited.

Maybe I'm just a skeptic, but no one I know is above cheap thrill; some just hide it better, and others like me, don't even bother. We know what we are. We _know_. You can't pretend to be a good girl when all your thoughts are bad. Why bother. Might as well soak up what you can and enjoy it. Life is too short to be quiet. Life is too short to be anything but loud.

I untie my hair ribbon and let my hair bounce down. It provides a nice covering, trickling past my shoulders and dipping under my breasts. When the curly black locks flow, I look a little less average, more like the queen I love to think I am, and then I smile, those crocked teeth reveal themselves, and I clamp my mouth shut.

Screw this.

I turn, walk a few stops to the tub, stoop down, and turn the faucet on.

For a few seconds, I let the water run over my hand and do my best to ignore the grime.

When I step in and sit down, the water flows up my feet and over my legs slowly. The warmth is inviting, soothing, and I realize I could drown right here in this bathroom if I wanted. Slip into the tub, beneath the water, hold my breath, and don't give into the pinching ache for air. I could suffocate in this water. It'd be quite the way to go. Better than a gun. Better than a bunch of pills. You'd look peaceful when you go. No bullet holes or frothing at the mouth... Or any other visible damage. Just a dead body floating in the water.

Not that I want that.

No, I don't.

Sure, I live this life, this dismal experience. I don't know what else to fucking call it, really, but I ain't that batshit crazy. Maybe my mother is. She'd admit it. Maybe Tim is. He wouldn't. But me? I ain't crazy. Maybe I hate my reflection, but I don't hate myself.

I'm pretty damn sure I don't.

I like life most of the time, not as much as Curly, but who does? I like my friends, and though I'll never tell them, I like my brothers. I like a lot of things. I really do, but I could drown if I wanted. It's nice to think about. It's nice to think I could if I wanted to. Does that make me a morbid person?

Probably.

Probably makes me a little insane too.

Oh, I don't really give a shit...

I could end everything right here, right this very second, but I won't, and that's all that counts. There will be no dead body today. There'll be no dead body in the Shepard house today, and when there is, it won't be mine. I can guarantee it won't be me, so I wonder...

Why the hell do I dwell on this kind of bullshit?

I turn the water off, slip under the water until it covers my shoulders, and stop there. I ain't a coward. Even though I could, I wouldn't, but damn it if the sudden silence in the bathroom isn't overwhelming.

In our house, there is never quiet.

It's only temporary.

Sure enough, someone will come home. Don't know who, don't care who. Maybe I'd rather be alone, but I know that's bullshit.

Someone will come home.

I don't hope so, but I do hope so.

And I decide if the world ever stops being loud, I'll do it. I'll end it. Maybe in water, maybe another way, but I won't think twice.

If the world stops being loud, that'll be the end of me.

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Thanks for reading! Please review.

And go read TaylorPaige24's _Ghost in the Water_, because it's a freaking awesome story for one, and two, it got me thinking about water, and I remembered this piece I wrote ages ago. Not sure why I didn't post it when I wrote it, probably because it needed some MAJOR overhaul and editing, but here it is now. ;)

Also, I'm not a 100% on this, but I'm toying around with it being a prologue to something longer. Thoughts on that? Thanks ahead of time. :)


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